


H. Troglodytae

by joely_jo



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Monster of the Week, Season/Series 07, X-Files A Map of Us: 50 States of Sex Challenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joely_jo/pseuds/joely_jo
Summary: When a party of cavers go missing whilst spelunking in Mammoth Cave National Park, Kentucky, Mulder and Scully are called to investigate. Soon, they uncover a dark and frightening secret of evolution hiding underground and find themselves in a race against time to get out alive.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first proper casefile. I’m super nervous about posting it. Please be gentle with me! This has taken me an age to write and I’m still writing, so although everything is plotted out, it may take a while to post new chapters.  
> The timeframe for this is late Season 7, post ‘all things’ but pre ‘Brand X’, so naturally, there’s some established MSR, because that is my jam. It would be called a typical ‘Monster of the Week’ episode.  
> Written for the 50 States of Us challenge on tumblr. I chose Kentucky. I’ve never actually been to Kentucky (I’m British) but I have a very good friend who lives there and between her and the Internet, I hope I’m reasonably accurate!

MAMMOTH CAVE NATIONAL PARK, KENTUCKY

JULY 13th 2000

 

Reuben Waller watched from his Jeep as dawn rose over Mammoth Cave. The flashing lights of emergency services’ vehicles illuminated the grey concrete of the lot he was parked up in with shifting tones of red and blue. Despite the Rangers best efforts, and the early hour, there was a gathering crowd of onlookers, most of whom were contained behind temporary metal barriers, but were no doubt being encouraged by the presence of several sat trucks belonging to local news stations. Indeed, one of them was broadcasting at this very moment, a tall blonde woman in a raincoat standing with her back to the action, such as it was. Reuben supposed that he couldn’t blame them. This was Kentucky, after all. Not much happened around these parts and the story of the cavers who had not returned from their expedition was doubtless the most exciting thing the reporter had covered in months. And in truth, he didn’t much care about their presence, just so long as they kept out of his way.

“You ready, Rach?” he asked as he stood up, swung his car door closed and turned towards his caving partner Rachel Simmons. She was perched on the edge of the trunk of her own SUV, strapping gaiters and knee pads over her boiler suit. Her red hair stood out a mile against her dark clothing.

“Just about. You?”

Reuben nodded. It had been two days since the party of cavers had been reported missing and so far, there had been no sign of them. Five grown adults, all skilled and experienced, seemingly vanished from a difficult but not unknown expedition route. Nobody had heard a thing from them since. They’d left on their expedition on the morning of the 10th and simply hadn’t returned. Their friends and families had raised the alert once darkness had begun to fall. Initial investigations had been fruitless and it was becoming clear that, somehow, the cavers must have diverged from their intended route and from there, become lost or trapped somewhere in the labyrinthine systems of Mammoth Cave.  

It had been yesterday lunchtime that Reuben had received a call from his old friend Jeff Bellamy, Superintendent Chief Ranger for the park, asking for his specialist advice and assistance. Reuben had grown up in this area, raised by a geologist and a professional spelunker, and he knew these caves like the back of his hand. His partner, Rachel, was ten years his junior, but possessed a sense of adventure and a level of skill near enough equal to his own. Between them, he’d told Jeff, they were going to find these guys. Because if they couldn’t do it, nobody could. His only fear now was that something tragic had happened, something that was going to mean they’d be bringing up dead bodies rather than rescued men.

“Okay, we’re good to go, then?” he asked Rachel. She nodded and jumped down from the SUV’s trunk. She was nearly a foot shorter than he was, but lithe and athletic like a cat. Her speciality was crawling into spaces other people wouldn’t have a prayer of accessing. In short, she was made to be a caver.

“Yup, I sure am.” They high-fived one another, a ritual they’d been doing before every trip underground since they first started working together, and set off across the parking lot.

The entrance the cavers had originally used was half a mile’s hike from the parking lot, but the trail to get there was cordoned off with police crime scene ribbon, which fluttered restlessly in what was a growing night breeze. A pair of officers from the local police department stood at the head of the trail, their faces sleepy and bored. The gathering crowds and news reporters had so far been contained to the parking lot but Reuben could feel the tension rippling in the air, though; everyone was on high alert.

As he ducked under the cordon, Jeff came towards him, his whole body taut like a whipcord. “Reuben, Rachel, boy am I glad to see you two. This is turning into a goddamn nightmare.”

“It doesn’t sound good, does it?” Rachel admitted. “There’s still been no communication from the cavers?”

“Nothing. We’ve been monitoring the radio waves since the evening they disappeared and… nothing. Not even interference. And you’d think if they were simply lost, they’d attempt to make contact. I’ve gotta say, guys, I’m fearing the worst.”

Reuben made a face. He glanced at Rachel, whose lips had thinned almost to nothing. Their eyes met and understanding passed between them. In underground search and rescue, there was a golden window of 36 hours. If a victim hadn’t been found within that time frame, the chances of recovering them alive began to diminish, and fast. They were approaching 30 hours already. “Okay, sounds like we better get to work, then.”

“We’ve got some fancy new equipment for you, Reuben. Loaned it from the cops down at Cave City. It’s an Eyes and Ears kit. We’ll get you wired up and then you can get down there.”

“Sure… If you think it will help,” he said, unable to hide his scepticism.

“Look, I know you’re probably thinking what’s the point but I’m going to come out and say it. I’m spooked. There’s something about all of this that just doesn’t quite add up and, well, I don’t want you out of our sight,” Jeff confessed. “I want to find those guys, but I’m not risking anybody else, so I’d appreciate it if you wore it, okay?” 

Reuben studied his friend. It was not like Jeff to be anything other than matter of fact. The man was known for his rationality. Hell, he’d secured his job on the grounds that he was the kind of person who could manage an entire National Park without breaking into a sweat. If Jeff was bothered by this, there was clearly some need to err on the side of caution. “Okay,” he replied. “I’ll do whatever you need.”  

“Thanks for humouring me.”

Jeff turned and led the way to a specialised truck parked up thirty yards away and Reuben stood obligingly while he was rigged up. The set was lightweight and surprisingly unrestrictive to his movement or agility. Fancy, indeed. “How’d you like it?” he grinned at Rachel when he was all hooked up and they were watching the grainy black and white transmission on the tv set in the back of the truck. She laughed, hands on hips, head tilted to one side in that familiar look she gave him when she wasn’t impressed with his act.

“You look like you’re in some cop show, Reu.”

“Eh, well, always wanted to do a turn on NYPD Blue.” He gave a couple of little jumps on the spot to check the equipment was secured well enough then added, “Awrighty, let’s get this show on the road.”

***

Three hours into a steady but fruitless expedition and Reuben and Rachel were deep underground. They’d left the route the cavers had supposedly travelled some time ago and pushed off down an even less explored side seam. The path had narrowed down through sections where they’d needed to resort to crawling and, eventually, squirming on their stomachs, but was now widening out, enough so that Reuben was now able to stand more or less upright and walk without needing to take side steps. Limestone caves were typically like this, larger chambers were accessed through slim veins in the rock, rather like the underground networks within termite mounds, and in the end, much of it all connected up. Here in Kentucky, it was possible to walk underground through cave systems for hundreds of miles. And that was just through the explored passages. Who knew how many more miles were yet to be mapped?

Reuben was doing his best to narrate their journey to Jeff via his headset, but was aware he was probably not doing a particularly effective job. He’d never worn this kind of equipment before and it had already crossed his mind that any kind of picture they were seeing up top was probably unclear at best. Still, it was comforting to hear Jeff’s voice in his ear as they worked their way further underground.

Since they’d shimmied their way through a particularly tight spot about a half hour ago, Rach had gone ahead of him and she was now about ten yards in front, her yellow hard hat occasionally highlighted by the bobbing beam of his head torch. He was just thinking of calling her back and suggesting that they backtracked as the more he thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed that the missing cavers had made it this far when he saw something move just ahead of her, off to one side. Squinting into the darkness, he wondered if it was one of the cavers, but no sooner had the thought entered his head than he dismissed it. Whatever this was, it was not wearing conventional clothing and it _glittered_.

“Rach,” he called out, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Don’t move.”

Up ahead, Rachel froze as her training told her to do and turned around to face him, slowly. “What? Why?” she asked.

The shape was still, unmoving in the darkness. Reuben peered at it, but it was almost as if his eyes wouldn’t quite focus on its form. It was like staring at a mirage, where what little light there was refracted and reflected into uncertainty. Two vague white dots stared back at him. “There’s something off to your left,” he said.

Rachel frowned at him. She looked over to her left. Nervously, her feet shifted in the dust of the cave floor. “I don’t see anything,” she told him.

Jeff’s voice came in his ear. “Where? What do you see, Reuben? Talk to me.”

Reuben blinked. The shape was gone.

He stared hard. It couldn’t have vanished. That was ridiculous.       

“It’s gone. It was there!” he exclaimed, his heart thumping madly in his chest. “I swear to God, it was there! Don’t move. I’m coming to you.” 

He’d just got his legs moving when, in the blink of an eye, Rachel disappeared, pulled to the ground from behind. Reuben sped up, but whatever had grabbed her was fast, too damn fast, and his feet were heavy with fear. He heard her scream, high-pitched and terrified, sink like a knife into him. With a clatter, Rachel’s head torch went out and the darkness got thicker. “Holy fuck!” he yelled, partly at Jeff in his ear and partly as horror overwhelmed him.

 

***

WASHINGTON D.C.

JULY 14th 2000

Pale morning light filtered in through the blinds in Scully’s apartment. She turned her head towards the digital clock and peered with the sightlessness of sleep at the garish red digits. 5.19. Monday morning. In a little under two hours she’d be heading out of the door to join the rush hour traffic and make her way across town to the Hoover building. The alarm was set for 5.30AM but she reached out and clicked it off. She wasn’t about to go back to sleep with just eleven minutes before she had to get up.  

Sighing, she rolled onto her side. Stretched out beside her, Mulder slept on, his face softened and innocent of its day-time expressions. The dawn light streaming through the gaps in the blinds patterned his skin with thin bars. Her stomach flipped. In many ways, she’d already grown used to Mulder as a lover rather than a partner, but that first sight of him in her bed in a morning still sent a rush of giddiness thrumming through her body.  

As she watched him, admiring his naked, recumbent form half-revealed between twisted covers, she thought back over the previous evening. She’d cooked her Mom’s beef stroganoff then they’d laid together on the couch, making love while episodes of Monty Python’s Flying Circus played unwatched on the television. Sated, comfortable and lulled by orgasm, Mulder had drifted off sometime around eleven.

At first she’d been content to be wrapped in his embrace and had basked in his sleeping warmth, marking the passage of time by listening to the quiet thud of his heartbeat, but as it had approached one in the morning, she’d grown desperate for the flat plain of her own bed and some actual, meaningful rest. Lying awake in your lover’s arms was all very well and good when you could lounge in bed the next morning, but she’d checked her emails that evening and seen that Skinner had requested a meeting with them at 8AM sharp. If she was going to be functional for work in a little over six hours, she’d have to get some sleep or she’d be good for nothing.

So, moving with the speed of a glacier, she had extracted herself from his possessive hold and slipped free. Mulder had groaned in his sleep, but then hustled down in the cushions and begun snoring softly again. Clearly sleeping on her couch was no more of an imposition to him than sleeping on his own. And so she’d gone to bed to sleep alone. Until a little after 2AM, when the bed had dipped and Mulder had slid in beside her, pulling her close and mumbling something about having missed her.

Her mind came back to the present as Mulder hummed, shifted positions and his breathing changed frequency. Scully kept perfectly still and waited. He was coming around. She’d seen him wake enough times over the past few months to be able to identify the rising stages of alertness he passed through as his consciousness fought through the haze of sleep.

Finally, his eyes opened. “Hmmmmm, morning,” he greeted her with a contented smile. He stretched languidly.

“Comfortable are you, Mulder?”

“You bet.”

He scooted towards her, so she was lying in a symmetry of him, their bodies mere inches apart. His hand slid up her thigh and came to rest on the rise of her hip. “It’s early, yeah?”

“5.25,” she replied.

Mulder made a soft sound half way between a hum and a purr and slipped his hand inside her pyjama shirt, finding one of her nipples. He thumbed it softly until it hardened like a bud. Scully stiffened.

“Mulder, we’ve got a meeting with Skinner at eight and the crosstown traffic will be snarly at that hour.”

“That’s hours and hours away,” he exaggerated, hands wandering down her back to cup her bottom and tug her gently towards him.

“Breakfast? A shower?”

“I’ll buy you a bagel and a coffee on the way.”

He kissed her, loose-lipped with sleep and desire, then began to unbutton her shirt. Scully stilled his hands, even as her resolve began to weaken and arousal started to sing in her bones. “Mulder…”

“Scully...” he murmured in counterpoint. Another kiss, then another. “It’s Monday and I bet you that meeting with Skinner’ll be something that’ll keep us busy all week, which will mean it’s going to be all work and no play, if we intend to keep up with the rules.” He put the last word in air quotes, making it quite clear what he thought of the “rules” she’d insisted they abide by while at work. “So, we’re here together now and it’s early and I’m ready and willing.” He thrust his morning hard-on into the top of her thigh and kissed her again. “And I know you are, too, underneath this punctual good girl act you’ve got going on.” His hand slipped inside her pyjama bottoms and between her legs. “Mmm, yeah… Definitely.” He spread her wetness around and started to caress her hardening clit with the pad of his index finger.

“Mul… oh God…” she sighed. He lifted her leg and swung it over his so he could touch her more thoroughly. Her eyes closed as the rhythm of his fingers sank into her soul.

He brought her patiently but inexorably to delicious climax, then shifted above her and positioned himself, pausing a moment and fixing his eyes on hers before beginning a slow slide inside.

“Mmmmmm…” he sighed. “Scully, you feel so good. If I died like this, right now, I’d die a happy man.”

“Mulder, you shouldn’t joke about that. The strain of sex and orgasm is actually a significant risk factor for coronary events and—“

Mulder cut her off with a bark of a laugh. “Oh, Scully, you really know how to strike a romantic note.” She reached up and stroked his face, apologetic now he had pointed it out. “I passed my last physical with flying colours. I think the likelihood of me croaking while making love is small.”

“That’s good.” She arched her back, drawing him fully inside, and played her fingers along his ribs. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Grinning, Mulder started to move with gentle, teasing thrusts. “Not so worried about being late for Skinner now, hey?”

“Stop talking about Skinner,” she instructed and Mulder chuckled.     

***

As it happened, they were barely five minutes late to the meeting with Skinner, and their boss appeared not to notice that the clock had moved past the hour when he admitted them to his office and waved them towards the desk. “Have a seat, Agents,” he said. A cup of coffee steamed in Skinner’s hand and there were the flakes from some kind of pastry on his shirt.

“Someone else caught their breakfast on the hop, Scully. Do you think he was… you know… too?” Mulder whispered close to her ear as they moved to sit down. She eyeballed him, begging him silently to shut the hell up. The last thing she wanted was Skinner suspecting that they were sleeping together, if he didn’t already.

“I apologise for calling you in so early, Agents, but we have something here that requires your immediate attention, something that may well have… unusual elements to it.”

Mulder, who had been slumped with careless insouciance in his chair, sat up a little and grinned. “Who you gonna call?”

Skinner ignored him and began to explain, “Four days ago, a party of five experienced cavers went missing from a spelunking expedition in one of the lesser known cave systems in Mammoth Cave National Park, Kentucky.” Skinner paused and handed Scully the file from his desk. “They left in the morning and simply didn’t return. Communication was attempted via the two-way radio the leader of the party carried, but there was no response on any channel. The emergency services were alerted and over the next twenty-four hours, several search and rescue operations ventured into the same system of caves but found no sign of the cavers.”

Scully thumbed through the file. There were photographs of the missing persons, along with personal information. Five men, of varying ages between early twenties and late forties stared back at her. “With all due respect, Sir, this sounds like a simple case of missing persons. And four days later, they’re likely to be finding bodies rather than missing persons.”

Skinner nodded in agreement. “The chances are fading for finding any of the cavers alive. However, yesterday morning, two specialist and highly skilled park rangers entered the system, purposefully called in to explore all possible routes that came off the original planned route. They were in constant communication with rangers back at the surface when this was recorded.”

Skinner gestured to the television on his wall, pressing play and activating the video frozen on its screen. The image shifted, and it became clear that the footage was from some kind of head mounted eyes and ears equipment. “I’m afraid the footage is unclear at times,” Skinner explained ruefully. Indeed, the black and white picture was predominately black, but for the light thrown out by the beams of two head torches. Shadows shifted in the distorted, grainy image, and then the room was suddenly filled with the low monotone of a male voice, describing his journey through a cave in minute detail. Mulder stood and moved towards the screen, listening and watching.

For several minutes, all was calm. The light from the head torches illuminated the path in front of the rangers and it became clear that the man narrating the journey was following behind a smaller woman. Her yellow hard hat was visible about a dozen paces ahead. Suddenly, there was a pause and the progress forward halted. An intake of breath, sharp enough to be nothing but shock was heard, then the male voice called out, “Rach, don’t move.”

“What? Why?” asked the woman in front, turning around to look in askance at her partner. It was hard to see her face at the distance she was, but she was younger sounding, and confused.  

“There’s something off to your left.”

Scully felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Even after all these years and after everything she’d seen, the sound of people in peril still had the power to move her.

The recording continued. Both rangers were perfectly still. The sound of shallow, panicked breathing could be heard, intermixed with the scrape of what seemed like feet on dry ground. Head torches flashed beams around the tunnel, as if searching for something.

“I don’t see anything.”

A third voice, male again, no doubt whoever was monitoring the pair from the surface spoke. “Where? What did you see, Reuben? Talk to me.”

In the darkness, the woman was turning on the spot, trying to scope out her surroundings.

“It’s gone. It was there!” the male voice replied. “I swear to God, it was there! Don’t move. I’m coming to you.” 

The male ranger began to walk forwards, then, abruptly, there was a scream and the woman was yanked to the floor. A brief scuffling sound and another scream ensued, this time accented with mortal terror. The woman’s head torch went out and the picture became instantly darker. “Holy fuck!” yelled the male voice. “Rach! Rach! Oh my God…”

The picture fuzzed then went black and there was another sound, like that of something hard landing with force on human flesh, and then nothing but silence.

Skinner turned off the video. “That was recorded at 10.57 on Saturday morning. There’s since been no further communication from the team.”

“Something’s down there,” said Mulder, emphatically. “They were attacked.”

“It has been suggested that this is now a murder investigation, yes,” Skinner confirmed. “Either way, I want the two of you on a plane to Kentucky without delay. Any questions?”

Mulder went to the video recorder and ejected the tape, slipping it into his jacket pocket. He replied, “No questions, sir.” He turned to Scully and they locked eyes a moment. “We’ll get right on it.”  

In the hallway, Scully fell into step beside him. “I know that you’re thinking fantastical things right now, Mulder,” she said as they reached the elevator and he pressed the call button. “But I want you to remember that the most likely explanation here is that we are dealing with a murderer who, for whatever reason, has chosen caves as his locale.”

“Because there’s nothing that says first degree murder like dank, dark and deep underground,” he said. Despite the jest in his words, his tone was thoughtful, his eyes distant with consideration. “You might be right, Scully. But before we go pack our bags, there’s an old X-File I want to pull.”

“Do you think you’ve seen this before?”

“Hm… No, not exactly. But there’s something I want to check out before we head off.”

“Okay. Do you want me to wait or will you get a cab back to your place?”

Mulder, leaning against the elevator wall, was absorbed in his thoughts and took a moment to answer. “You go on, Scully. I’ll see you at mine in an hour.”

The elevator doors opened onto the empty basement hallway and the familiar rush of stale air greeted them. Mulder woke from his reverie and looked at her. “Pack plenty of warm, dry clothes,” he advised vaguely. He straightened up, hesitated for a second, then leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Scully started.

“Mulder…” she said. 

Stepping off, he glanced over his shoulder, met her mildly reproachful expression with a grin and said, “Nobody around but the FBI’s most unwanted.”

The elevator doors closed.

***

EDMONSON COUNTY, KENTUCKY. 3.15PM.

The wipers on the rented Taurus worked furiously to clear the rain from the windshield as they drove through the traffic on I75 towards their destination. It was mid-afternoon, the sky was grey as steel, and it hadn’t stopped raining since they’d got off their flight at Cincinnati. Scully had been watching out of the window for the better part of an hour, inwardly cursing the downpour while Mulder idly cracked sunflower seeds and flicked the shells in the direction of the ashtray. They had traded meaningless conversation at points during the journey, but she had held off asking him for his thoughts on the case, preferring instead to revisit the file Skinner had given them as they drove. She wanted to get things straight in her own head before she let Mulder spin one of his tales and throw her off the beaten track.  

“These men were on a so-called ‘wild’ tour of the Caves,” she said eventually. “They were all skilled men, some of them with decades of experience of spelunking. They don’t seem like the type of people to have taken a wrong turn and gotten themselves lost.”

“No,” agreed Mulder. “Yet that appears to be the story the rangers are feeding to the press. There was a news report on in the airport when I left you to go to the bathroom,” he explained.

“I suppose however unlikely it seems in this instance, anybody can become lost in over 400 miles of cave, Mulder.”

“But five of them? I know they tell you to stick together underground because anything can happen, but these were experienced guys. If one of them made a mistake or a wrong turn, chances are the others would have corrected him.”

Scully huffed softly. It did seem improbable that all five cavers had met with the same unfortunate outcome. “Perhaps there was a rockslide or some kind of flash flood.” Mulder made a face. “But you don’t believe that? What’s your theory, then, Mulder? Because I know you’ve got one.”

He glanced over at her and smiled. “I haven’t got one. Well, not a clear cut one at least. But that file I went back to the office to get… Let me fill you in a bit, Scully. In 1923, a cave guide named Thomas O’Rourke went missing in Mammoth Cave whilst leading a group of tourists through a deeper, less visited part of the cave systems. Despite multiple attempts to find him, his body wasn’t recovered until fifty years later, when it was found in a newly discovered branch of cave passages wedged between a gap in two rock formations over three miles from where he’d originally gone missing. In addition to Mr. O’Rourke’s body, they also found the bodies of four other men, dating back to the early 1800s.” Mulder drummed his fingers on the wheel. “Each body had been completely desiccated.”

“Desiccated? That’s not unusual. Fifty years underground will do that to a corpse,” Scully explained. “It’s rather like air drying a piece of meat in a refrigerator. Many caves lack the bacterial flora necessary for decay, and without the presence of light, warmth and moisture, any decay that does occur does so at an incredibly slow pace.”

“Oh, I get that, Scully. But it’s where these bodies were found that’s the X-File. It was as if each corpse had been wedged into a hollowed out crevasse in the cave wall, purposely, like you’d see carcasses hanging in larder refrigeration at a slaughterhouse.”

She frowned. “You think they were being stored for some reason? Why would someone do that?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe as a twisted trophy? Take a look at the file – it’s on the back seat.”

Reaching behind her, Scully grabbed the file and began to flick through it. The pictures showed exactly what Mulder described – five shrunken bodies, stuffed into holes in the cave wall, as if they were being stored. It reminded her somewhat of a Butcherbird, or some kind of gruesome pantry. “The case is unsolved,” she noted.

“Yeah. They never found any sign of anyone or anything that could have done it. It was eventually agreed that with no further leads, the case should be closed. The bodies were buried and the cave passage they were found in sealed up.”

“The bodies date over a period of nearly a hundred years. That kind of time span would require two killers, perhaps with a family link… maybe a father and son. That sort of thing isn’t undocumented.”

Mulder tongued a sunflower husk between his lips and then reached up to consign it to the ashtray with its fellows. “It’s not. This incident with the cavers just got me thinking about this old case and now I can’t shake the feeling that the two are connected somehow. So I called ahead. I got us a meeting with the chief ranger and superintendent, one Jeff Bellamy. I figured he’d be the one to get the low down from.”

***

The superintendent’s office was a long, low, white building surrounded by landscaped grounds and tall pine trees. Mulder parked up by the entrance, next to a stray sat truck and they stepped out into a waterlogged and empty parking lot filled with puddles. The rain had slowed to a drizzle but the sky was still heavy and threatening. The humidity was through the roof. Mulder held open the door and they walked into a silent anteroom and up to an unmanned reception desk. Beyond the desk, there was a back room with a small number of office cubicles and several doors leading elsewhere. But even there, there was not a soul to be seen. Leaning on the desk, he peered into the back room before calling out, “Hello… anybody here? Can we have some assistance?”

A moment passed and then quick, high-heeled footsteps sounded from behind them. Mulder turned to see a middle-aged woman with cropped, dyed black hair approaching, her manner caustic, “Are you with the media? We’re not giving any more interviews until we know more about what’s happening, so if that’s what you’re after, you can get shot.”

“Well, actually, we’re with the FBI,” said Scully, sarcasm rolling in her tone whilst she reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. “Agents Scully and Mulder. We’re here to speak with Jeff Bellamy.”

The woman took a small step backwards, face paling as she realised her error. “Oh, oh my goodness. I am so sorry. FBI, huh?” She scuttled around the back of the reception desk and began nervously sorting through papers. “I’m, er, Ruth Bassett, assistant to Mr. Bellamy. And you want to see Jeff? Let me go get him for you.”

A door in the room behind the desk opened and a stout, granite-faced man in camouflage pants and a dark sweater emerged. He looked tired and there was the shadow of despondency in his voice as he said, “No need, Ruth. I’m here. Agent Mulder, please excuse us. We’re all working hard to avoid the media here. He held out a gnarly, labour-hewn hand. “Jeff Bellamy, superintendent chief ranger.”

Mulder shook his hand, feeling some degree of sympathy for the man, and properly introduced himself and Scully. “You want to fill us in, Mr. Bellamy?”

Bellamy nodded, then gestured to the room he’d just come from. Mulder and Scully followed him inside. He closed the door and took up a position behind a large, cheap-looking wood veneered desk. He remained standing a moment, taking a deep breath and swallowing. It was clear that he was shaken and stressed but putting on a brave face. Mulder wondered if he’d ever had to deal with anything like this before and supposed that the answer was probably no. Mammoth Cave was a busy tourist spot, but it was hardly New York City. Major crimes just didn’t happen that often in rural Kentucky.   

“Well, no doubt you got all the information from the police files. You know what we’ve got here. All I want is answers. And my men back. Reuben and Rachel are friends of mine. I’ve known Reuben for a dozen years. He’s the most experienced spelunker there is. No way would he have gotten himself lost. I was listening to him. Something happened down there. Something absolutely not normal.”  

“We’re not ruling anything out until we have concrete proof of its impossibility,” Scully intoned.

“What do _you_ think happened down there?” Mulder asked. He was moving idly around the room, which was clearly Bellamy’s office, casting his eye over its contents, trying to get a feel for the man he was speaking to.

Bellamy sat down in his chair, leaned back and shook his head. He heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t even want to imagine. But I tell you something, Agent Mulder. Whatever it is, it’s going to happen again unless we do something. I’ve got cops from four districts investigating, and my park is crawling with search and rescue teams, but everyone’s drawing blanks. And I refuse to believe that seven adults can vanish without a trace just like that.  Which is why I called you Feds in. I’m sick of sitting here and not knowing what the hell to do next.” He sifted through a pile of papers on his desk and picked up the video tape. “Have you had chance to review the tape? Did you see what I saw?”

“We’ve seen the tape,” said Scully. “But the quality isn’t good and it is hard to make any real conclusions from it.”

“Rachel is strong but she was grabbed and pulled to the ground as if she was a doll,” said Bellamy. “If this is some kind of murderer, like the Chief is telling the press, he’s a damn good one.”

Mulder paused in his survey of the room. “I’d like to look at the tape again, Mr. Bellamy. With you, this time. If you think you saw something, I’d like to see too.”

“I can arrange that, sure.”

Outside, a telephone rang, a shrill, urgent noise in the quiet. Someone answered and Mulder continued, “What do you know about the history of Mammoth Cave?”

“I know pretty much everything there is to know,” said Bellamy. “I grew up around these parts. And I’ve been in this job for six years now. You get to know a place when you’ve looked after it for that long.”

“Does the name Thomas O’Rourke mean anything to you?”

Bellamy frowned and tilted his head in thought. “He was a cave guide back at the turn of the century. Went missing in mysterious circumstances. His body was recovered a few years back in equally mysterious circumstances.”

Mulder was about to frame another question when the door burst open. Ruth Bassett stood in the doorway, her face suffused with amazed joy. “Jeff! You’re not going to believe this… They’ve found Reuben! He’s just walked out the way he came in.”

“Reuben Waller?” Scully said with a glance at Mulder.

“Yes. You’ve got to come, Jeff. He’s delirious. Talking all sorts of madness, apparently.”

Mulder came around the desk. “What is he saying?”

There was a pause as Ruth looked at Jeff, seeking silent permission to elaborate further. He nodded. “He’s saying there’s something down in the cave. Something not human.”


	2. Two

 

MAMMOTH CAVE, KENTUCKY

He’d been in darkness before. When you’d descended into the bowels of the earth as many times as he had, you came to know darkness. At times, it was friendly, benign, a gentle, welcoming embrace that spoke of cosy nights tucked in bed, of peace and solitude. But other times it was chilling, unnerving, a threat veiled beneath silent obscurity.

This darkness was like liquid and he was submerged. It was the kind of darkness that robbed you of your best sense and replaced it with fear. Reuben knew his eyes were open, but he could see nothing. He blinked, and knew he was blinking, but there was no change in his field of vision. His body felt heavy, his limbs lead-like and ungainly. He was cramped into a tight hole, his legs pulled up in front of him as if he was a foetus. Cold, rough stone pressed at his back and beneath him and he felt his lungs straining for breath in the quiet. He listened. The sound of his breathing was suddenly abnormally loud and a wave of sheer terror passed through him. His heart was racing. He felt like prey. Lost. Alone. Part of him wanted to shout out, to cry for help, but another part told him to shut the hell up and keep quiet, for God only knew what was listening.

He stayed very still, purposefully, fairly sure that he was drifting in and out of consciousness, but unable to truly judge because of the dislocation of being in total blackness. Eventually, though, his body began to come back to itself and the heaviness that had filled his limbs seemed to soak away. He shifted his position and felt the tingle of pins and needles take hold in his legs. Wriggling his toes felt like he was moving another person’s body; every part of him was stiff, perishingly cold and numb. He swallowed, trying to rid himself of the foul taste in his mouth.

The sensation of being watched seemed to have abated somewhat, and in its absence, he was suddenly overcome with a desperate urge to get out of wherever he was. He forced his reluctant body to move and realised that the hole he was in was only shallow, more of a shelf in the rock rather than any kind of passageway. He swung his feet downwards and realised that they were now planted on solid ground. Light. He needed light. His headtorch and the eyes and ears kit were gone so he patted his chest and was relieved to find that his internal pocket still contained one of his emergency glowsticks. A quick crack and dull yellow light began to spill from it, penetrating the darkness all around him.

But light brought with it shock and horror. He was in a narrow fissure in the rock and all around him were chambers of varying sizes, hollowed out. Some were several feet in height and width, others were slimmer; all had been physically carved from the rock, chipped away in a haphazard manner with rudimentary tools. Reuben held up the glowstick and saw that within each chamber was a body, some were almost skeletal, others were shrunken and leathery. He walked along the fissure, counting dozens of chambers, until he came across one that stopped him dead in his tracks.

Rachel.

She was wedged into the rockface, her face turned away from him, but even so, he knew it was her. Her distinctive red hair was matted and darkened with what looked like blood, and her arms were folded awkwardly around her body, as if she was embracing herself. Fear surged inside him as he considered the possibilities. “Rach!” he hissed and poked the glowstick at her. Her skin was pale and her lips were blue with cold. _Please no, please no,_ he thought. Reluctantly, he pressed two fingers under her chin, waited a few seconds, held his breath. A faint pulse beat beneath his fingertips, weak and thready, and his breath gasped out in relief. She was alive. He tried her name again, but there was no response. She was out cold.

A tattoo of _what do I do, what do I do_ was just establishing itself in his mind when he heard the tiniest of scraping sounds behind him and froze. Not daring to look back, his eyes searched the darkness in front of him even as his heartbeat sped up still further. Fuck. He needed to get out of here, needed to get them both out of here, while he was still able. He looked at Rachel, then reached out and touched her cheek. _I’ll come back for you,_ he thought, _I swear I will._ Taking a deep breath, he allowed his caving instincts to take hold and he scanned the ground for footprints, looking to see which way the exit was. Cool air was funnelling onto his face, telling him that the way ahead was the way out. He took one last reluctant look at Rachel, then started to move.

The sensation that he was being watched from behind did not abate as he stumbled on weak and rubbery legs along the passageway. _If I don’t look back, I can’t see it to confirm it’s there_ , he thought desperately. _Just keep moving. Keep moving._

The passageway widened out into a larger cavern, and all of a sudden he recognised where he was. Stumbling in his eagerness, his legs still rubbery beneath him, he sped up. Whatever it was behind him stayed in the shadows, but kept pace. Occasionally he heard it – a soft shuffle, a scrape or a shush of breath. His heart hammered in his chest and sweat pearled on his forehead. He’d have run if he could, but in the narrow tunnels and passages of limestone, he was limited. He had no idea why it wasn’t attacking him again, why it seemed to be allowing him to escape without any attempt to halt him. It was almost as if it _wanted_ him to get away.           

When eventually daylight flashed in front of him as a pale spot of light, he almost cried with the relief. He tried to yell, but his mouth was dry and his brain was sluggish. Pushing forward, he felt the presence behind him hang back, then, just as he was nearing the exit, something sharp hit him in the back of the neck. He’d had horsefly bites before and they fucking stung, but this was sharper, more piercing. He slapped his hand up to his neck with a cry. “Jesus… what the fuck?!”

He wheeled on the spot and searched behind him and that’s when he saw it. Crouched high up on the wall, like a spider dangling from a web, a slim almost childish figure with sparkling crystalline skin that rippled and shifted as he looked at it. He blinked. His eyesight was clouding, his balance wobbling. Turning, he stumbled away, towards the light, crying out, “Help me! Help…”      

 

THE MEDICAL CENTER AT CAVERNA, HORSE CAVE, KENTUCKY

 

Reuben Waller looked like he’d seen a ghost. Or something. His face was pale as chalk and his eyes bore huge, pronounced shadows beneath them. Lying atop the clinical white sheets of his hospital bed, Scully thought that he seemed half like a wraith himself. She stood at the foot of the bed and once again studied his chart with interest. Reuben had indeed walked out of Mammoth Cave exactly the way he’d gone in, but after that, things had taken a serious turn for the worse.  

“He’s out cold then?” Mulder asked, framed in the doorway like some Wild West hero, his shirt-sleeves rolled up and his gun resting in its holster at his waist. Scully glanced up at him. He was leaning against the frame, his legs crossed at the ankle, blocking out most of the light from the hall.  

“They had to sedate him. He needed a massive dose of Versed to stop him ranting and endangering himself, so I’m not sure he’s going to wake up any time soon. They’ve got him on IV fluids, but physically there’s nothing much wrong with him. The CAT scan was clear, and he has no broken bones or internal injuries. But he was completely delirious with what appeared to be an acute psychotic episode.” She frowned at the chart. “I’m interested in the bloodwork though. Something just seems amiss to me, Mulder. Dehydration can make you confused, but he was ranting completely outrageous things as if he was under the influence of something… perhaps a hallucinogen. I’ve requested a tox screen so hopefully that will give us some insight.”

“He did seem as if he was on something.” He drummed his hand on the doorframe, then pushed off and paced into the room, stopping beside Reuben’s bed. He stared for a long moment. “But what if he was telling the truth, Scully?”

“Mulder, you heard what he was saying. Something human but not human? That glittered? Surely you don’t need me to tell you how ridiculous that sounds? Not to mention how scientifically improbable.”

“I don’t think Jeff Bellamy thinks we’re dealing with the scientifically probable.”

She looked away from him, back to the chart in front of her and slid the witness statement Reuben had made out from beneath the chart. Her eyes flowed over the words once again. _A slight figure, possibly five and a half feet in height, with skin that glittered and refracted the light and cold, silver-white eyes._ It was utterly fantastical. Clearly it had to be the product of a vivid imagination or a particularly expansive trip.

“So, what? You believe there’s some creature down there with glittering skin attacking people?” She was unable to keep the scepticism from her tone. Seven years in Mulder’s company had admittedly taught her that despite everything science currently knew and understood, there were still plenty of things it couldn’t yet explain. But, until it did, she wasn’t about to jump to a conclusion based on the strength of just two reports. She needed some actual solid evidence.

“I don’t know yet,” Mulder said. “But I do know I want to speak to Jeff Bellamy again and take another look at that video tape with him.”

What Scully wanted now was the results of the tox screen. And to talk to Reuben herself. She felt sure that with a dose of sedative inside him and an exchange of rational words, she’d be able to get through whatever fear or delirium the caver was experiencing and hear a more reliable tale of what happened to him. “I’m going to stay here for a while in case he wakes up. But it could be a while.”

He nodded. “Okay.” His hand reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Catch you later, then.”

***

Mulder made his way back to Mammoth Cave via a series of back roads, mulling on their encounter with Reuben Waller, such as it was. The account of the strange, sparkling figure with white eyes preyed on his imagination, and he slowly began piecing together the information they had and combining it with the rest of what he knew. It was already growing dark when he pulled into the small parking lot in front of the superintendent’s office, a pinkish sky giving way to banks of curling dark grey clouds. Once again, the building seemed deserted, but now he knew where he was headed, he slipped quietly through to knock on Jeff Bellamy’s office door.

A moment’s pause, no doubt as Bellamy checked through the peephole for who was disturbing him, and then the door swung open to reveal the chief ranger. “Agent Mulder,” he greeted and stepped aside to allow Mulder to enter his office. “I’m sorry I had to leave you at the hospital. I would gladly have stayed, but I had some phone calls to make and another meeting with the Chief of Police.”

“Who is?”

“The Chief? Mitch Allen. You’ll meet him soon enough, I have no doubt.” Bellamy made a face. “Imagine a human incarnation of a mosquito, both in physical appearance and manner, and you’ve got Mitch. My best advice would be to keep swatting him away before he bites your ass and leaves you with a welt the size of Brazil.”

Mulder smiled at Bellamy’s gallows humour. “I’ll remember that for when I get the pleasure of meeting him.”

“You’re here to look at the tape, aren’t you?”

Bellamy pulled out a chair and waved to Mulder to have a seat.

“Yeah, I’ve seen it a couple times already, but I’d like to watch it with you if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

Mulder reached into his breast pocket and removed the VHS tape he’d taken from Skinner’s office, then handed it to Bellamy, who walked around to a TV that hung slightly askew on a wall mount. After inserting the tape, Bellamy fiddled a moment with the remote control to rewind and restart the recording. “I asked for you specifically, Agent Mulder, when I contacted the FBI. Despite what Mitch Allen thinks, I don’t believe that what we have here is a common or garden-variety murderer. I swear… there’s something on that tape. Mitch says it’s a spot on the tape, that I’m seeing things, but… well, you see what you think.”

He pressed play and the tape began to roll. Mulder watched as the scene he’d seen before started to play out before him once again, keeping his eyes trained on the darkness that surrounded Reuben and Rachel. Mulder’s eyes were sharper than most, but when Bellamy called out, ‘There!’, he had to ask what it was he saw.

“Where? Show me again.”

The ranger froze the tape and rewound it a touch, then played it again. “There.” He pointed one of his thick fingers at the fuzzy picture on the screen. Mulder took a step closer and scrutinised the screen, unsure what he was supposed to be looking at.

“I don’t see it,” he said.

“See those two white dots? Behind and to the right of Rachel.”

Mulder froze, mid-breath, as he realised what Bellamy was pointing at. He was right. There, in the dark and shadows behind where Rachel was standing, were two tiny silver-white smudges of light. They were so small and so faint that you had to really be looking for them to see them. It was hard to say if it was light that was being refracted from elsewhere or if it was being emitted from something. They were still, unmoving, and utterly compelling.

Eyes in the dark.

“You see them now?”

“Yeah…” Mulder’s head tilted quizzically as the tape continued to roll and the white dots shifted slightly, then vanished.

“I’m not imagining it, am I?” said Bellamy. He looked from Mulder to the image on the television and back again, as if he expected Mulder to disagree, meaning he’d have to launch into a further explanation.

Mulder’s voice was quiet. “You’re not.” He took the remote control from Bellamy and rewound the section of tape again, playing it through a third time. As the white spots of vague light appeared and disappeared, he was reminded suddenly of a nature programme he’d watched just the other week where deep sea fish flashed lights in the ocean abyss to attract prey. “I’d like the tape back please, Mr. Bellamy. I want to send it to someone back in D.C. who might be able to rescue something from the blackness.”

“Sure.” Bellamy ejected the tape and handed it to Mulder. “Do you believe me, then?”

“I believe you.”

***

The evening wore on and still Reuben Waller’s sedation appeared to have him tight in its grip. Doctors and nurses came in and out, checking vitals and administering various tests, but all seemed content to let their patient sleep. Scully alternately paced around the room or sat mulling over the information they’d collected so far. Every bone she had in her body told her that white-eyed, cave-dwelling monsters were the stuff of comic books and horror stories, not real life, but the longer she sat, and the more times she read Reuben’s witness statement, the more she found herself becoming unnerved by the tale. Her mind flicked back through past cases – Tooms, the African monster who drained his victim’s pituitary glands, the Flukeman, those strange mothmen in the Florida forest – and she considered the possibility of Reuben’s description having some credence. Evolution had shown itself to create some fantastical things before, given enough years and the right conditions, and she’d seen them with her own eyes. What was to say that the depths of limestone caves couldn’t create something as strange and inexplicable as the things she’d seen already? Whatever it was had clearly been enough to frighten Reuben Waller to within an inch of his life.

In her pocket, Scully’s phone trilled loudly, and she jumped, glancing around the room, as she fished it out and answered, “Scully.”

“I think you should call it a night,” said Mulder. “It’s past eight.”

“Mulder, it’s fine. I… I’m waiting for him to wake up. There are questions I want to ask him.”

“He’s not going anywhere, Scully. They pumped him so full of drugs Keith Richards’d be jealous.” Over the line, she heard him close a door and the soft _thwump_ of his jacket hitting a bed. He was at the motel. Scully closed her eyes, thinking of kicking off her shoes, of taking a shower, of the relief of stretching out on a soft mattress.

“Scully?”

She drew in a sharp breath and realised that her attention had drifted and she was still on the phone. “Yeah?”

“I’ll order pizza,” he sing-songed in her ear and she felt herself smiling, despite herself. Pizza sounded like a dream.

“Okay, okay. Pepperoni, mushrooms, green pepper, diet soda. And don’t let them skimp on the cheese.”

“Never.”

He hung up and Scully pocketed her phone. She got to her feet and afforded Reuben a last, long look before replacing the witness statement back into the file and tucking it under her arm.

She got a cab back to the motel Mulder had booked for them just out of town and checked in. Inside her room, the air was hot, stale and unmoving. She switched on lights, toed off her shoes and turned the AC on full, before heading to the bathroom and firing up the shower. She peeled off her clothes and, when the water was running at a constant temperature, stepped under the stream. For a long moment, she stood like a thirsty tree beneath the water, letting it pound over her and loosen the crick in her neck and soothe the ache in her back, allowing it to remind her of things other than petrified grown men and monsters in the dark.

When the water eventually ran cold, she stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in the complimentary robe and returned to the bedroom. “Hey Scully,” said Mulder from the bed. “I heard you through the wall.” He was sitting propped up against the headboard in his jeans and that familiar grey t-shirt she always saw him wearing when she pictured him in her head. His hair was freshly washed and fluffy, sticking up in every direction and a tiny piece of toilet paper betrayed how he’d nicked his chin when shaving.

“Hey.”

“Pizza’s on the way,” he said.

“Good, I’m starving.” She let out a long sigh. “Although I’m so tired, you might have to feed it to me.”  

She sank down on the edge of the bed and began towelling her hair, only to feel him shift behind her and lay his hands on her shoulders. His fingers squeezed once, twice, and then began working their way up to her neck. The gentle pressure soon had her eyes closing in relief, and Scully rolled her head, releasing a slow moan as he kneaded at the knots in her tired muscles. 

“You’re tense,” he said, his voice low. She hummed.

“I feel like I’ve been sitting still, waiting and thinking we should be doing something more all day. If it wasn’t already dark outside, I’d go for a run to shake it off.”

His lips joined his hands on her neck, kissing gently over her shower-soft skin. “I can think of something else we could do to shake it off…”

“Mulder…” she murmured. “We said nothing like this while we were working.”

He stopped and drew back but said nothing further. Instead, he let his hands knead at her neck and shoulders, soft and firm in the same moment. Scully sighed, feeling her traitorous body respond to him. She pulled the towel off her head and arched back into his touch. So much for standing by her own rules, she thought, as Mulder slid around and pulled her up so they were facing one another.

“You know what I think about rules, Scully,” he said, and his breath puffed gently on her neck.

He pushed her bathrobe open, his hands running over her bare shoulders and down her upper arms, then leaned in to kiss her. At first, she didn’t respond, tired to the bone, then slowly, her mouth opened and the kiss deepened.

His clothes disappeared, and he laid her back onto the bed, her head amid the pillows. They began to sink into an age-old rhythm. The bed creaked as they shifted against one another; he was hard above her, lean, taut lines and his thick cock pressed against her thigh. Scully’s skin was sparking. So much for rules, indeed, she thought, as he pushed his way slickly inside her.

Her back arched as he slid in to the hilt, wanting to draw him still further inside her. Above her, Mulder groaned a breathy ‘fuck’ against her neck and rested in stillness a moment. The feeling of him inside her was already flashing pleasure through her body. She shifted and grabbed at him, wanting him to move, to satisfy her need. Reading her desire perfectly, his hips started to move. Beneath them, the bed creaked, and the cheap headboard banged steadily against the wall as he rocked into her.

For a long while, there was nothing but gathering pleasure. She sought out his mouth and he kissed her deeply in answer, then slowed his rhythm just enough to make her buck her hips beneath him. The change of angle was enough and with a cry, she fell over the edge, orgasm rippling through her in pulses. Seconds later, she felt Mulder lose his own control and he pushed into her hard as he emptied himself.

Afterwards, Mulder rolled away to lie beside her. Their hands reached out across the sheet and their fingers intertwined. They laid in silence while their breathing evened, then Scully snuggled up against his side. He tugged her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“I’ve always felt like I’ve needed this when we’ve had one of these cases,” she said once her heartbeat had steadied.

She felt Mulder’s chuckle rather than saw it. “Damnit Scully… Why didn’t you say?! Think of all the times I could’ve gotten laid and instead I sat alone in my motel room watching crappy TV.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled again, the audacious, insufferable man that he was. It was the kind of typically Mulder comment that she had grown used to ignoring and she did just that, continuing, propping herself up on her elbow to regard him properly.

“I don’t know what it is, maybe some kind of reaction to the loss of life… Like a reaffirmation of humanity in the face of inhumanity.”

“Those are some big ideas, Scully. You sure it’s not just plain and simple horniness?” He reached out and thumbed her nipple until it rose again into a peak. She cast him a now vaguely irritated glance; he wasn’t taking her seriously.

“Mulder…” She issued his name as a flat reprimand. “This case is tragic already – potentially six people are dead. And whether that’s from your highly improbable cave-dwelling mystery creature, a serial killer or just terrible misfortune, it’s still tragic.” She paused, reaching down and grabbing the comforter. The AC had really kicked in now and as the sweat cooled, she shivered. “It bothered me how frightened they said he was. Anything that makes a grown man react with that level of fear…” Her voice trailed off.

Mulder rolled onto his side, mirroring her, and propped his head up on his hand too. “You’ve seen all kinds of evil, Scully. Things that would make other people quiver in fear.”

“I may have seen it. But that doesn’t mean that it affects me any less.”

He nodded. They fell quiet and, in the silence, there came a knock at the door. “Pizza,” said Mulder, glad of the distraction. He flipped out of bed, grabbed up his shorts and pulled them on. “Stay there and I’ll get the door.”

After a brief exchange of words at the door, Mulder returned with the pizza box, spinning it like a basketball on one finger, then tossing it onto the bed. “Dig in, Scully.”

She scooted forwards and opened up the box, taking a deep breath of the smell within. “God, that smells so good.”

They ate too quickly and far too much, Mulder finishing off the final slice and scraping the last of the melted cheese from the bottom of the box with his fingers. “Don’t you want to know what I found out, then?” he asked as he licked his fingers clean. “When I went back to see Bellamy?”

Scully looked up and met Mulder’s eyes. It was all she had to do. “You found something on the tape.”

“You’re not going to believe it, Scully, but I’m telling you, there’s something down in those caves. And I’ll bet you a stuffed crust that it’s not human.”

“Not human?”

“Well, not human as we know it.” He stood and beat pizza crumbs from his chest, then crossed the room and reached into the pocket of his jacket, removing the VHS tape he’d borrowed from Bellamy. He went to the cheap television that hung slightly askew on the far wall and pushed the tape into the built-in deck. “Check this out.”

“Mulder, this is the tape we saw with Skinner.”

“It is, but I’m going to show you something I bet you missed first time around.”

He pressed play on the tv and came to sit on the end of the bed near her feet. The tape sputtered and came to life and the scene they’d watched before began to play again. Under the covers, Scully brought her legs up and hugged them, suddenly feeling irrationally chilled. Mulder stayed silent and still as the tape rolled, then jumped to his feet and pressed pause. “Look there.”

He pointed at the screen. Scully frowned and squinted. “See the two white dots?” Mulder prompted her.

“Yeah…”

“Watch them. The way they move.”

The tape unfroze and started to play again. Scully watched.

As the white dots shifted, then disappeared, Mulder rewound the tape and ran it through again, but she didn’t need to see it again. “They’re eyes,” she said in as level a tone as she could muster and met his gaze. “Maybe a deer? Lost in the caves, perhaps.”

Mulder sighed. “A deer,” he repeated flatly. “Scully, sometimes I wonder if you disagree with me just because you get a kick out of it. No way are they the eyes of a deer. That movement… the stare and the shift in position… That’s predatory. Whatever it is, it was stalking those cavers.”

“I know what you want me to say, Mulder, but you have no concrete proof here, just a video tape of something that could be any number of things.”

“Which is why I’m going down there, Scully. Tomorrow. And Jeff Bellamy’s coming with me.”

“You’re going down there?” Scully could not keep the incredulity out of her voice. “Mulder are you insane? We may have no idea what’s down there, and whatever it is, seven full grown men and women have been attacked and six of them are still missing. What’s to say the same won’t happen to you?”

“I don’t see that there’s any other choice. It’s shown no desire to leave the confines of the caves, so if we want to find those cavers, and Rachel Simmons, we’ve got to go after it.”

“You don’t even know what it is!”

Mulder stood, huffed softly and picked up his fallen t-shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head. “No… but I have a theory. It needs a little corroboration, but I’m working on that.” He smiled and bobbed his eyebrows. “Wanna hear it?”

Scully made a face but Mulder took her lack of verbal response as an affirmative.

“Four thousand years ago, American Indians discovered the Kentucky Mammoth Caves contained extensive deposits of nitre salt, gypsum, selenite and other minerals. Successive generations mined the caves for two thousand years, gathering the minerals for use in medicine and trade, then quite abruptly, and for no known reason, archaeological evidence dries up and it appears that, for some reason, the native culture stopped mining the caves. But the mineral deposits are still there even today and there is much evidence to suggest that American Indians continued to live in the area up until the present day. So what made them leave the caves? What stopped them doing something they’d done for two thousand years?”

Scully stared at him, her eyes darkening. “You think they were chased out by whatever it is you think is still living in those caves? Mulder, you’re talking about an event that occurred two thousand years ago. It’s highly questionable if anything in biology has a lifespan that long, let alone something big enough to take down a human being.”

“Come on, Scully, since when have genetic mutants conformed to the laws of science?”

She shook her head. “Even if you’re right, Mulder, why now?”

“That I don’t know. Maybe those cavers were exploring deeper than anyone had explored before? Maybe it felt threatened by the encroachment? Maybe it’s been dormant or hibernating?” With a shrug of his shoulders, he sat back down on the bed. “Maybe if we find it, we’ll understand more about it and its motivations?”

“And what about Reuben Waller? Does his condition not concern you?”

Mulder twisted to look her in the eyes again. “I know it bothers you, Scully,” he said, softly, and he reached for her hand. “But the only way those cavers are going to be recovered is to go underground and find them.”

“I’d just like to know a little more about what we’re dealing with before we send anybody down there unprepared for what they might meet. At least wait until we’ve had chance to speak to Reuben,” she countered. Mulder stared at her, then acquiesced.  

“Okay, I agree. That’s logical.” He pulled on his jeans and then picked up the empty pizza box, crushing it as flat as he could. “I’m going to take this out to the trash and then I guess I should get some sleep.”

Unspoken in his words was the way they’d ended every night out in the field in the last few months - should they share a room or not? Scully looked up at him, now standing by the door, his eyes fixed on hers. After everything they’d spoken about this evening, and regardless of her scepticism, being alone wasn’t high on her list of preferred options. “You’re coming back, aren’t you?” she asked.

His smile was small, nervy of rejection. “Sure. If you’ll have me?”

She dropped her chin and quirked her eyebrow at him. “Well, the pizza man’s long gone.”

Mulder’s laugh was cut off as he walked out and behind him, the door slammed shut.

***

 

ROCKY VIEW MOTEL, CAVE CITY, KENTUCKY

 

Scully’s cell phone rang shortly after dawn broke, waking them both with a jump. As she grabbled for it off the night stand, Mulder rolled onto his back and groaned. He’d slept fitfully throughout the night, waking repeatedly with his brain on high alert, questions running exhaustively through his mind, and even as he shifted into full consciousness, he could feel the lack of good quality sleep permeating his bones.

“Scully,” he heard her say into the phone and felt the bed shift slightly as she sat up fully, twisting away from him and swinging her legs out.

Still with eyes closed, Mulder stretched and sighed, then tried to listen to the voice on the other end of the line. It was female, possessing of a clipped, professional tone and Scully was listening closely.

When she hung up, she turned to him and said, “That was the hospital. Reuben Waller’s sedation has worn off and he’s awake and calmer. He’s asking for us.”

Mulder opened his eyes. “For us?”

“Yes, he couldn’t remember names, but he asked for the Feds.”

She rose and he was treated to a sight he didn’t think he would get used to if it continued for his entire life – Dana Scully fully naked and at ease in his presence. He let his eyes drift down the curve of her back before asking, “How is he?”

“Distracted. Desperate. He keeps asking to go back down into the caves, but so far they’ve put him off. They’ve got a psychiatrist coming to see him during morning rounds.” She headed for the bathroom but paused and turned to face him in the doorway. “Oh, and the tox screen is through.”

He nodded. “Then let’s get going. I’ll shower in my room.”

 

THE MEDICAL CENTER AT CAVERNA, HORSE CAVE, KENTUCKY

 

The temperature was already well into the 70s by the time they arrived at the hospital, and it quickly became clear that news of Reuben Waller’s recovery had been made public, for a throng of reporters was gathered outside the main entrance, several of whom were engaged in recording live reports when Mulder and Scully arrived. As they weaved through the crowds, Mulder overheard comments about ‘federal officers’ and ‘increasing police presence’ mixed in with ‘the Mammoth Cave monster’. He glanced sideways at Scully as they passed through the automatic doors and, as expected, she rounded on him immediately. “The Mammoth Cave Monster?” she said with acerbic tone. “Where’s that come from, Mulder?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me, Scully. You know what these guys are like. Anything for a headline. Kinda catchy though, wouldn’t you say?”

Her eyes narrowed as she hit the call button for the elevator and Mulder looked down at his shoes, hiding his amusement. There was nothing Scully liked less than the press getting hold of details of a case they were working on, much less when they sensationalised it into a real-life horror story.

When, moments later, the doors of the elevator opened with a sigh and they stepped out onto a brightly lit, generic hospital corridor, they were immediately confronted by a young deputy. “Excuse me, I need to stop you here. What’s your business on this ward?” His eyes flicked over their suits as he tried to evaluate who they were. Mulder and Scully reached simultaneously into their breast pockets and withdrew their badges, holding them up for the deputy’s attention.

“Special agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI, we’re here to speak with Reuben Waller,” said Mulder.

The deputy visibly drew himself up, his cheeks colouring. “Oh, agents, my chief told me to keep a look out for you guys. Sorry for the, er, old stop right there routine; we’ve had news reporters up here in the last hour trying to get on the ward so…” His voice drifted off as he did a double take to check out Scully, which made Mulder bristle and bite.

“I’m pleased to hear you think we look like journalists, deputy.”

“It’s fine,” Scully said to the deputy, offering him a smile and dismissing Mulder’s comment with a wave of her hand. “I’m sure you must have your work cut out here.”

“I think this is the most exciting news this part of Kentucky has had in a generation,” replied the deputy with a rueful chuff of laughter. He turned and began to lead them down the corridor. “The Chief is trying to keep everything under wraps, but it’s not working all that well. Everyone’s spooked, agents. There’s talk of monsters and all kinds of shit.” He glanced at Scully again. “Is that why you’re here? Because there’s a monster down there?”

Scully drew in a quietly exasperated breath. “We’re here to help recover the missing cavers.”     

They came to an admitting desk where several nurses were perched on high-backed stools filling charts and talking quietly. From behind the desk, a male doctor in dark blue scrubs appeared and came towards them. He was fair-haired, fair-skinned and when he spoke, it was with a Scandanavian accent. “Can I help you? I’m Dr. Svensson.”

“These guys are the feds,” said the deputy, helpfully.

“Ah,” Svenson said, “I presume you’re here to talk to our resident celebrity?”

“If you’re referring to Reuben Waller, yes we are,” said Scully. “And there should be some results for me too – a toxicology screen?”

“Yes, yes, there’s a tox screen. The lab brought it up first thing this morning. Said there was a rush on it.”

Mulder used Svensson and the deputy’s distraction to step around Scully and slipped off down the corridor, peering through the series of propped open doors until he found Reuben Waller, sitting up in his bed and staring out of the window. The caver appeared in good physical health, but even from ten feet away, Mulder could see the anxiety rippling through him. Every muscle in his body was tense and his eyes were fixed unseeing on the cloudless sky.

Mulder entered, and as he did so, Reuben’s concentration broke. Startled like a wary bird ready to take flight, he looked sharply towards Mulder in the doorway.

“Reuben Waller?” Reuben’s answering nod was barely noticeable; he seemed as if he was ready to break and run at any second. “Special Agent Mulder with the FBI. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t want to talk about how I feel,” said Reuben sharply. “Why does nobody seem to understand that? I want to get the hell out of here. My partner needs me to help her.”

Mulder came further into the room. “And that’s what we’re trying to do, Mr. Waller. But we need you to help us help her.”

Reuben shook his head and closed his eyes a moment, as if summoning calm. “I don’t want to seem rude here, Mr… What did you say your name was?

“Mulder,” said Mulder.

“Mr Mulder… But someone like yourself, standing here in a fancy suit… You don’t know the first thing about what needs to be done to get Rach back. I can get her back, but none of these sons of bitches are letting me leave this room!”

“I know how frustrated you must feel,” said Mulder, reading the party line even as he imagined himself in Reuben’s position, with Scully missing. Nothing on this earth could have kept him chained to a hospital bed if he’d known she was in danger. Frustrated didn’t even begin to cover it.

Reuben rolled his eyes. “You have no fucking clue how I feel,” he spat and looked away, back out of the window.

Mulder pulled up a plastic chair and sat, then leaned forward and hissed, “Listen to me… I know you’re the one who can show us where Rachel Simmons is, and believe me, nothing would please me more than to have your help, but they’re not letting you out of here until you can demonstrate that you’re of sound mind and no risk to yourself or others. So yelling and shouting and losing your shit, no matter how angry you feel, isn’t going to help your case. Now, like I said, I’d like to help you get your friend back and I’m sure you think you know how to do that, but unless you want to end up back in those caves with your own life in danger again, you’ll shut the hell up and behave rationally.”

Reuben’s lip curled and for a moment, Mulder thought he was going to fly out of the bed and pummel him, but then slowly, the caver appeared to subside. 

“I need you to tell me what’s down there, Reuben.”

***

Scully had to re-read the toxicology report three times over before she was able to form coherent thoughts about its results. She’d been expecting something, but not this. Running in Reuben Waller’s blood was a plant toxin derived from the Datura genus. And with that knowledge, Scully’s brain flew into overdrive. Datura was a rarely encountered toxin but it gave symptoms that suddenly made Reuben’s delirium from the night before slide into perspective.

The caver had been drugged.

Tucking the report under her arm, she went in search of Mulder, finding him stepping out of Reuben’s room. “Scully,” he said. “We have to get this guy out of here. He knows where the cavers are.”

“Mulder, there’s something you need to see.” She thrust the toxicology report at him and carried on talking while he read it. “These are Reuben Waller’s blood results from last night. There’s evidence of a plant toxin I’ve seen only once in my life in his bloodstream.”

“Datura.”

“Yes, it causes delirium, an inability to judge fantasy from reality, tachycardia, photophobia and amnesia.”

Mulder hummed. “You think he was under the influence of this last night?”

“I’m sure of it. The quantities present in his blood are enough to have caused acute psychosis.”

“Well, that explains why he was one fry short of a Happy Meal last night,” said Mulder. “But how did he get that amount in his blood?”

“I’m guessing he ingested it. Perhaps as he was exiting the cave. He hadn’t eaten in days.”

“Datura is a plant, yes?” Scully nodded. “Plants don’t grow underground. They need light to photosynthesise.”

“Well, yes—”

“So how could he have eaten a plant toxin when he’s been underground for the last 48 hours?”

She huffed out a breath. She hated that he was so good at poking holes in her theories. “I don’t know, Mulder, but that’s definitely what it is.”

“American Indians have used plant-based medicines for thousands of years, Scully. There’s also considerable evidence that they tipped their arrows and darts with various poisons derived from rattlesnake venom and poisonous plants for the purposes of hunting and battle.”

With an arch of her brow, Scully replied, “You’re still labouring on this theory of yours...”

“Prove me wrong, if you can,” Mulder challenged. “I’m just putting together the pieces as best I can. Reuben says he saw something down there and even taking into account the likelihood of his being drugged, his word remains the only actual evidence we’ve got of what happened to those cavers and to Reuben and Rachel.”

“Okay, okay, so say you’re right, then,” Scully bit back. “What do you think actually happened?”

Mulder glanced down the corridor. The charge desk was just a dozen paces away and it was clear that the nurses had stopped their chatter and were almost certainly trying to eavesdrop. He took Scully by the arm and pulled her into an empty room then lowered his voice. “I think whatever it is down there is drugging its victims with something, then while they are insensible, it takes them deeper underground.”

“For what reason? And what purpose?”

“Maybe it’s defensive, protecting its territory.” He shrugged his shoulders. “The original party of cavers was on a ‘wild’ tour through less well-known passages of the caves. Maybe they accidentally strayed too far. As for purpose, I don’t know yet. But if you recall the X-File on Thomas O’Rourke, those bodies were desiccated and appeared as if they’d been placed in storage. Maybe that’s what this thing does. It just stashes these people so they can’t bother it again. Or maybe the fact that they are desiccated is the clue.”

Scully felt a shiver run through her as her imagination tore off after Mulder’s theory. Bodies could be desiccated by virtue of having spent a long time underground, but they could also be desiccated by having had all their fluids drained away. She closed her eyes a moment and gathered herself. Why the hell was this bothering her so much? As Mulder had said last night, she’d seen far worse. Clearing her throat, she threw herself back into the discussion.    

“And Reuben and Rachel?”

“That was more spur of the moment. They were attacked in a hurry. My guess is that it saw them and reacted on instinct. Like a mother protecting the nest.”

“The nest, Mulder? You think this thing is not alone?”

Mulder didn’t reply. There was no need to, for Scully was quite able to imagine the implications of that possibility. She swallowed.

“But whatever it is, the only way we’ve got any chance of getting Rachel Simmons and those cavers out alive is to let Reuben lead us to where they are.”

“And you want me to sign his release papers, is that it?”

“He can leave AMA any time he wants, but he doesn’t know that. I don’t want him realising he can either because we all know what’s going to happen if he does. He’ll be down underground on his own faster than we could follow him. And I’m not about to let that happen.”


End file.
